Impossible
by alexzangel
Summary: A/U: Hermione Granger had never been the conventional housewife...she never had an opportunity. Not long after her wedding she left, breaking promises to all she new. Now that she's back Harry definitely doesn't want her to stay. Or does he?
1. Back At Your Door

Hermione stood on his doorstep running purely on adrenaline. Otherwise she would have never set foot on the porch, or dared neared the house. The house had a creepy air about it that warned visitors away, but inside she knew that it was home. Not _her _home necessarily, but it was a home.

The house itself and the grounds that surrounded it stood in perfect tranquility. She had imagined in her dreams that upon her return gargoyles would swoop down and kill her. Perhaps she had been engrossed in too much folklore.

She smoothed out her think black shirt before she knocked on the door in three sharp knocks. Hermione half expected a house elf to show up on the other end of the door. Nevertheless Harry Potter appeared in all his glory.

The sight of him merely took her breath away. It had been eight months…almost a year since she'd heard or seen of him. Where she was there was no media, everything passed by word of mouth. He had the faintest hint of stubble on his face, but besides that all seemed well.

He hadn't starved without her.

And while any person would be happy with the thought, she was somehow disgruntled. After eight months she somehow wanted him to beg for her return. But only in her imagination would that happen. There would be no forgiving what she had done.

She snapped out of her thoughts as she continued to survey him. It was far into the night, so it seemed right that he was in his pajamas.

And he was upset…no pissed, she decided. And he had every right to be. Harry's arms were folded stiffly across his chest, his heart firmly guarded. Or perhaps just the pieces she had left him with eight months ago. And not only to him, but to everyone she had broken promises.

There was nothing she could say. What was her purpose here? To see him? Surely not. On her departure Hermione Potter had decided that she was running to be free of him. Hermione chanced a glance at Harry, actually daring to look in his eyes. And what she saw didn't please her at all.

She saw shame.

Hermione's head automatically bowed in regret. There were words that she could say, but she didn't know if he would let her begin. Or if she babbled on about the choices she had made, Hermione had no idea if it would make a difference.

His arms folded across his chest said everything.

"And what is to stop me from calling the Aurors?"

"You would do that to your wife?" she asked.

Her eyes narrowed in her reply. Perhaps now wasn't the time to be playing the mind games that she always had. But twenty minutes in his company was enough to draw up their old conversational habits.

He didn't smirk however, as he usually did in reply. And there were no smiles.

"How dare you?" he responded.

"How dare I?" repeated Hermione testing him. "How dare I what?"

There were a million questions floating between the two. The questions she wanted answered concerning their state of civility. And the things he wanted to know. Why did she leave in the first place? But of all the questions she had asked the obvious. The one she knew.

How dare she wait so long to come back?

How dare she not leave him at the altar, but at the beginning of their new life?

And what about betraying his trust?

"I can't even look at you right now."

He had never been one to speak up for as long as she had known him. Whether it be the quiet of the neighborhood or her ears had certainly acquired a new range she had heard him loud and clear. He was serious and she respected that.

"I don't expect you to."

And through those words she felt her voice cracking. Hermione thought she could be strong through this conversation without crying. Bur she felt the tears about to come and she knew that he wouldn't care.

"You obviously expect something. Why else would you have appeared at my door?"

Hermione opened her mouth to protest, but he held up his hand. Harry no longer wanted excuses.

"I don't feel sorry for whatever mistakes that you have made. I may not have warned you, but you should have seen it coming. And even though you are my wife you have to clean up your own messes."

"I have," she sighed. "I've changed."

Harry let out a small snort.

"Am I a 'them' now?" she asked.

Harry hated her with a passion, and she didn't believe this was possible. Her bravery had returned somewhat prompting her to ask what could have been the final question. Perhaps he didn't love her like he did the day they pledged their vows to one another, but his opinion of her still mattered.

It was always friends first and relationship later. Now, it was neither.

"The minutes," he responded. Harry had purposely avoided her question. "You have ten minutes to get off my porch before I'm forced to call the Aurors. I refuse to pay for your mistakes. Not anymore."

Hermione reached out to touch him. His voice had raised significantly, but instead her hands only met the smooth grain of wood. Hermione cursed her luck. She hadn't expected a warm reception, but an invitation into her own house.

He was right.

She had truly screwed up this time. Her only hopes lied in Lily Potter, her mother-in-law. More than likely she was only setting herself up once more for further hurt, but it was worth a try. After all she had betrayed her son's trust.

Hermione walked down two steps and around the ledge and started heaved the bags over her shoulder. She would have to walk a couple of blocks before she found an alley in which she could apparate to her next destination.

She adjusted the straps before and only took a few strides before she heard her name.

"Hermione," called an elderly woman.

Hermione's eyes scanned the second story of the building adjacent to Grimmauld Place. And at once she spotted Mrs. Richardson. She was a sweet old woman that at times reminded her of the grandmother she never had. Sweet Mrs. Richardson would occasionally send over a basket of fruit or some sweet she had concocted in her magical kitchen.

"Hi Mrs. Richardson."

"It's been ages since I've seen you dear. You simply must stop by for tea sometime. Harry insists that you were off in Italy for all this time. I insist that you stop by for some tea."

"I appreciate the offer Mrs. Richardson, but…"

"Don't tell me you're off on another trip, dear. It's none of my business but your husband does require some attention."

Hermione smirked at the elderly woman's insinuation and a genuine smile lit her face for the first time in a while.

"No Mrs. Richardson," she agreed. "I don't think I'll be taking anymore trips in the immediate future. Is tomorrow afternoon to early to accept that offer?"

"Tomorrow at two will be perfect. See you then."

It was the very beginning of normalcy in her life, Hermione decided. Mrs. Richardson had simply opened the gateway for her life's return. And within that minute of conversation between the two women Hermione realized that some small part of Harry still had a soft spot her.

And that she could work with.

Harry _was _an Auror, and he had every right to take her down to Ministry Headquarters the moment he saw her. In fact it was his very duty to do so. And yet he didn't.

He missed her deeply. His heart had skipped a beat when he opened the door and saw her on his doorstep. His first thought would have been to invite her back into their home but he couldn't do that.

Eight months had definitely been good to her, but had been terrible for him. He had spent this time missing her, berating himself, and spending his days cooped up in this dreadful house.

His life consisted of work and home with the occasion dinner at his parents and the Weasley's. This would only to stop the constant nagging. She probably was unaware but she had picked the worst night to reappear. The eve before his reentrance into the dating world.

Ron had set him up on a date with one of his friends.

Harry opened the fridge grabbing the remainder of the leftovers from his mothers dinner the previous Sunday. Too lazy to warm it up he simply grabbed a fork from the drawer and began eating the meal cold.

He kicked off his shoes once he reached his bedroom landing on the bed successfully munching on the food carefully as he settled comfortably into his thoughts. Perhaps tomorrow he could just forget this ever happened.

He remembered her departure strongly.

"_Hermione," he sighed. _

_It had been a long day. He loved being an Auror for the missions, not the paperwork. And so at the end of the month when all paperwork was due he found himself swamped trying to recall through a Pensieve how each mission took place, who was apprehended, or why it failed. _

_Needless to say he was in for some relaxation. _

"_Hermione?" he asked once again. _

_She should have been home by now. Hermione worked at St. Mungo's but still had regular hours as she simply helped run the main desk on the floor. He decided that he would stop by St. Mungo's to see if she had stopped to visit patients. _

_Harry passed by the cage of Aphrodite and opened it letting her roam free. He walked further until he arrived at the kitchen counter where all mail was stored. He flipped through some of the bills and the letter from his parents. _

_He knew it was inviting them to yet another family dinner. _

_And there it was. A note from Hermione. _

_All he had to see was that big handwriting, and he knew it was from her. Harry carefully unfolded it and read the message his eyes scanning the page. He crumpled it not long after he had read it. Throwing it in frustration. _

"_Damn," he sighed. _

_**Dad contacted me. He needs help. I have to. **_

_Her father was nowhere near a good man. Hermione freely admitted that to anyone that would listen. No one knew how the Granger family's turmoil had come about, but it was a disaster. They were a formerly muggle family imbued with magical powers by the Dark Lord himself. _

_Hermione's mother had died trying to get her out of that situation. She understood that the life her father lead was no place for a young girl to grow up. And now her efforts were futile. _

_Hermione's father had a puppet like effect over his daughter. And he used it to his advantage whenever necessary. She was his wife, and it made the most sense for him, a top Auror to travel the world in search of her. _

_But he determined right then and there that he wouldn't do it. She had to learn for herself that she couldn't go through life trying to gain whatever this man had to offer. He was saddened by it, stricken with grief. They had not been married long…less than a month…and off she flew. _

Harry pinched the bridge of his nose. He couldn't believe after all the time that had passed that he could even recall what he was thinking in the moment. His thoughts on the situation hadn't changed much.

He still believed that she was a troubled individual. Perhaps he had been to blinded by love to realize how messed up her life really was. He had been fooling himself, but was not going to do that once more.

Harry could see it in her eyes that night. Hermione still loved him. And with that thought in mind he didn't know quite how to feel about that yet. He never stopped loving her, but had simply shut off all emotion towards her.

And yet through that look she still wanted approval. She wanted him to say that he would forgive everything in an instant and pick up where they left off barely two weeks after they had entered their marital home.

It wasn't going to happen. He wasn't sure if it could happen.

He must have laid there for hours thinking about her as if they were dating once more. And before he knew it time had flown by. The muggle alarm clock buzzed lowly jolting him out of his thoughts as he fell to the floor in a jumble of sheets.

"Work," he sighed.

He propped up on his elbows wondering how he would get through the day.

A/N: Review are greatly appreciated. Both good and bad are welcome.


	2. This Room

A/N: I appreciate all the review. I'm glad that you all seem to love the story.

Chapter Two:

Hermione glanced around the room. Her arrival the night before had been impromptu to say the least, and hurried. Lily had asked almost no questions. Hermione was both satisfied with this action and unnerved. Wouldn't the woman care about her reason for arriving here?

Hermione sat up, still in the clothes from the previous day. She adjusted the strap on her tank top and turned on the bedside lamp. The room flooded with light and her eyes were hit with the vibrant yellow.

Yellow like the sun.

The room wasn't hideous, it was tastefully decorated, but she could not imagine being in it. It was against everything she stood for, and furthermore the memories haunted her. If her thoughts stood correct the last time she had enter said room would have been the eve of her wedding. This had been when her nerves began kicking in.

Where she had begun second guessing every waking moment she had spent with Harry Potter.

Her eyes traveled the room taking it in and then surveying her own appearance. The room perhaps sent a message that she did not belong here, and yet this is where she ended up each and every time.

The smell of breakfast permeated the room. It hadn't been too long, but she could still remember Lily's amazing coking. The woman's skill in the kitchen had rightfully been passed down to her husband. And as Hermione considered that thought she understood how Harry had kept so well.

Harry Potter, too could be independent.

Hermione tossed her bag from the carpeted floor onto the fluffy cover. She wasted no time grabbing a change of clothes with the intention of washing up.

And perhaps that time in the shower could convince her to walk downstairs, swallow her pride and have a decent conversation with her mother-in-law.

Hermione pulled herself from the bed and walked across the hallway to where the bathroom was. Hermione had barely steped inside before she stripped herself of her clothing and hopped in the shower. The water ran over her in waves.

Hermione had begun to take her usual quick shower before she realized that hse had plenty of time to kill. Despite the afternoon she planned with Mrs. Richardson her day was free. And there were no training sessions that she needed to oversee.

Harry was in his office simply rearranging the paperwork on his desk. He had finished his neglected paperwork from previous missions, and now was left unoccupied. He could feel thoughts of her slowly creeping back into his head.

She looked absolutely amazing. That much he was positive of.

"Did you forget about lunch?" asked Ron.

Harry looked up to see his long time frield Ronald Weasley on the other side of the door. Beside him was GIny, his younger sister. She sent a small grin and wave in his direction. A frown formed on his face. He wondered if it was simply Ginny's presence or the fact that he had forgotten.

"You forgot," admonished Ginny.

"Yes, I did," sighed Harry.

He decided that it was the fact that she was here. And perhaps a touch of it was the fact that he was aware that Hermione was back in town. Ever since Hermione left, Ginny hinted at a relationship.

"Alright," she sighed slowly. "You're forgiven, but we have to leave for lunch right now. I need to be back in my office in an hour. Important meeting."

"Well, I have a meeting in a half hour. I need to be there and mum wants to discuss something important."

Ron's eyebrows furrowed in questioning. He turned to his sister and asked her lif she would go and scrounge up lunch herself. He emptied his pockets of a few coins and passed them to her. She quietly agreed promising that she would soon return.

Ron waited until Ginny left before he walked across the room.

Harry wondered how his best friend would take the news. He could guess that he would not take the news well, but he could contain it. Best friends kept secrets.

"Hermione showed up at my door last night. She tried to explain to me that things had changed and she wanted to come back. She claims that she's learned from her mistakes and wishes to make amends."

"And I thought this would be about the felony you committed in her honor. Instead she's back to commit her own set of crimes. She's only going to drag you down, Harry. Drag you down until you have nothing left. Career wise and emotionally."

Harry groaned. Ron obviously wasn't handling this well. And the red haired man didn't stop there. He chose to continue his rant.

"The papers are right when they say you've lost your mind. People are still talking around the office about how you're married to the leader of the Ambrosia clan. They're just waiting for you to prove that you're working on the other side."

"Don't you think I know that? I want her to stay as far away from me as possible, but it gets harder by the second. She wants to give this another try, and I can't help but think that perhaps she means it this time."

"It's none of my business."

Harry had been waiting for that affirmation during this conversation. It now had a purpose and they could attempt to go somewhere with those words.

"Hermione was our best friend at Hogwarts. What is it that has changed so much?

"Back then I didn't know who she was. And if I had known back then what I know now, I wouldn't have gone near her. And perhaps you can't help but love her Harry. But you have to admit that there is so much that is unknown to us on the topic of Ambrosia. And for someone of her intellect to be mixed up in something so destructive is not a good thing."

Harry had to admit that it was a problem. Hermione had a horrible temper that you did not want to cross. Things had to be done her way. But she also had another side. A side that he absolutely loved.

It captivated him. And to this day he simply couldn't let go.

Ginny thankfully reappeared levitating three brown bags. Harry knew the largest one was his. Enough for lunch, dinner, and breakfast the following morning. Harry smiled accepting the bag before he cleared his desk. The three of them sat around the table talking.

Then a question popped into his head:

Where had she gone?

Hermione was alone at Godric's Hollow as Lily had left for work approximately two hours ago. Instead of eating breakfast as she had planned Hermione simpy sat on the bed staring at the wal. Hunger had not seemed to faze her until she snuck a glance at her watch.

She was indeed late for the event she had scheduled with her neighbor. Hermione looked through her bag and realized that she had nothing to wear. She stood and tried to appparate to Grimmauld, but soon realized that Harry had not been joking about his disapproval of her.

Hermione looked at the pair of trainers on the floor. They rubber was chaffed around the sides, and threatening to pull itelf apart. They looked battered and beaten. Her wand hand itched to be used and so did her wand, but she knew that she couldn't.

There was no doubt that they would be tracking Lily's house for signs of Hermione's magic.

"I'll have to cancel," she sighed.

Not because she wanted to, but for safety precautions. Racking her brain for a few moments she remembered the woman's number. And soon afterwards navigated around the cottage until she located a muggle phone. Dialing the number, Hermione soon after cancelled the engagement promising that it would be rescheduled at her earliest convenience.

In her heart Hermione knew that she didn't want to speak to her. She wasn't ready to face the questions nor did she want to stuff her mouth with cookies. That would imply some female bonding that she didn't want to partake in. It would also be against her fitness regimen which she was strict on.

Hermione dropped the phone that she had been cradling in her hands. It fell behind the bedskirt. She reached a hand out to retrieve it. Her hands felt the phone, but also a piece of paper. Hermione sat up curious to examine her find.

She turned it over instantly noticing the handwriting.

It was Harry's.

Hermione's heart leapt into her throat. She could remember the nights before the wedding. Hermione could even remember the wedding day. But everything after that she desperately wanted to forget.

Without even reading the first word of his slated handwriting she wante a do over. She wanted a chance, perhaps a time turner, in which she could talk herself into staying. Prevent the horrible, horrible realization that she was having.

The gravity of what she had done was sinking in.

_Hermione,_

_I can't wait to see you today. I have gone twenty four hours without seeing you before, but these twenty four are the hardest I have ever endured. The next time we see one another we __will be husband and wife. I love you for the things that you make me feel, not for the things that everyone has claimed against you. I can't wait for us to be build a life together._

_A family together._

Harry was never the most poetic person, nor the freest with affection. So this message coming from him then had meant the world to her. In fact it still did. And it made her look forward to their wedding night even more.

But the hours between the reading of the note and their departure to the hotel proved to be to many.

By the time the wedding was long over, and the reception ended, Hermione had talked herself out of it. She wasn't ready for a family, she wasn't ready for the final step in making their commitment official, and she was not ready to put it all to rest.

And now surprisingly she wanted him back. But Hermione was yet to be decided on the rest of those subjects. Perhaps they would remain unanswered.


	3. Dinner

Hermione woke following morning to the sharp pain of a golden coin. Simply judging by the state of sunlight entering her room she could judge that she was very well late for her meeting. Hermione scrambled out of the bed pulling on a loose shirt and pants.

Hermione clamped her teeth down on the necklace that she needed to gain access to the secret location and in one hand carried a pair the pair of battered tennis shoes by their shoe strings. She turned off the lights and straightened up a bit before she journeyed down the stairs.

"And where are you off to?" asked Lily.

She too was silent as she sipped her tea in the dark. Hermione slowly turned around cursing herself for being caught, but willing to acknowledge each others presence. Hermione glanced at the clock wondering if she could possibly make it in time.

"I'll be back in time for dinner."

"After doing what exactly?" asked Lily.

The red haired woman's green eyes flew to the black bag that Hermione held next to her. Hermione's grip tightened on the strap and on her boots. Plans were running through her head at the moment, and she needed to jot them down with the secretary before she lost the idea. But Lily made her realize that what she was about to do was not necessarily legitimate.

"I'll be back, Lily," she sighed.

Hermione crossed the entrance and quickly exited the door as if she had never been seen. Lily remained drinking her tea as she stared into the fireplace. Hermione's departure had saddened her deeply. Perhaps Hermione had not implied that she had left the family business, but it seemed like the only way that she would get out of the trouble that she was in.

I'll talk to her later, decided Lily.

Hermione descended into the evergreens of the woods. She sniffed in nature and at once felt in a familiar location. she had escaped the artificial yellow that had dominated the guest room. This was an emergency obviously, but in a way her therapy.

There was no time to bask in this however, because she was late.

Hermione took off at a good pace running through the woods her boots tied on a string around her right hand. She ran for what seemed like forever until she finally saw it. It was a modest house, quite similar to the cottage that Lily lived in.

It was a lot bigger though and appeared dilapidated. Smack dab in the middle of the forest especially with the appearance of structural instability warded off all visitors. Hermione had meticulously laid a covering of moss that enhanced this view.

She dallied no longer making great stride once inside the house towards her base of operations, her office. People acknowledged her presence rightfully so, but continued their job. Whether they trained in defense or where assisting in mapping out all the future endeavors already in progress.

She couldn't help but feel a sense of pride.

This had all been her doing.

"Follow me," she beckoned.

Hermione caught the attention of the two stragglers who walked with her on her way to her office. She walked in silence as she developed the questions that she wished answers to. It had been a while since any departure had been talked about, and three days was more than her fill.

With a wave of her wand the door closed and all the candles in the room flickered into a spark. It flowed the room in a warm glow. Hermione directed her attention at the two men that stood before her.

"How have things been?" she asked.

"Alright, I suppose."

Hermione raised an eyebrow at his answer and looked towards the other

one.

"I don't like it. Any other opinions?"

"Perhaps they could have worked a bit harder. Things have gone down quite a bit since you've left."

Hermione sat down on her desk looking at the two men.

"That could be a serious problem, and I suggest it be corrected before

I have to do it myself. I would hate for names to pop up before the Ministry. Or perhaps I'll save them the trouble and deliver the bodies to the doors of Azkaban myself."

"We apologize," the first pleaded.

"I don't want apologies," she shouted. "I want progress. My father prided our abilities to advance in every combat tactic known to man, wizarding and otherwise.

Skiving off is not an option. When I duel a man I should be equally matched.

Every soul who ventures through this cottage should know from Archery to Legilemency. And if you have conquered that go and find another skill."

Hermione's temper raged on. She could hear the delicate objects, figurines that adorned her office and glass mirrors seemed to shatter. The house seemed to stand still as she continued to berate them.

"Can I ask a question?"

Hermione raised an eyebrow. At times she could laugh and joke with them, but she found that time coming far and few in between the fights she had with these men. Men, the ones here she found vulgar. It made her appreciate Harry more and more.

"Is it true? Are you married to Harry Potter?"

Hermione's eyes narrowed as she raised her wand, but did not aim it directly at him. She had a few good ideas of what she wanted to do him. She pointed towards her door and mouthed for them to leave her sight. It held no relevance to the topic at hand.

Not long after they had left she found herself a place behind her desk fisting her hands through her hair. She wondered how they had found out about her marriage. Her object was to keep in the dark about certain aspects of her life.

The men lived in the house for the most part and never left except for those that she occasionally left to infiltrate the Ministry. It was good to have eyes and ears in every direction, and even better when she had those in high up positions.

The pile of information had grown on her desk. Most of them had been reports on what had been going on. At times she neglected them to train the rookies herself, but they obviously needed attention. However now was not the time in which she could do that. With the recent events she was out to punish someone.

How dare they undermine her authority? Did they not realize that she held their lives in her hands. They had nowhere else to go, and if she wanted to she could make their lives a living hell.

The idea clicked into her head instantly. With a wicked smile Hermione decided that she would call a training session. Perhaps she would not break her promise to Lily and meet her in time for dinner. But form now until that time she intended to work them the hardest they had ever worked.

She would be the one to let them know, not to mess with a Granger.

Lily Potter was not in the office at the time. That was the only reason why Bertram Baddock, who was directly under his mother in power decided to annoy him. It was no secret within the offices that Baddock hated Harry Potter. Some chalked it up to the fame, but not Harry. He knew there had to be some reason for it.

"Potter, did you hear the latest news? Dirk Cresswell is dead."

Harry raked his brain for a moment. He had work that needed to be done before he headed off to the training facilities. Today they had assigned him to work with the trainees. He personally hated them all: they were immature. They gawked at his scar and questioned him about his personal life.

"Dirk Cresswell? The name doesn't ring a bell. If he's a friend of yours I give my condolences, but I really do believe that I have work to attend to."

Baddock delivered a scathing look, but appeared to be having great joy with the information that he withheld. It was more than a mystery to Harry what was going on.

"Dirk Cresswell is...well was the Head of the Magical Being division of the Department for the Control and Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures. His death was mysterious enough, but was passed as 'normal' by the investigating Aurors. I however disagree with that."

Fear coursed through Harry's blood, but he didn't let it show.

"Then I invite you to take the matter up with the Head of the

Department whenever she arrives. Until then I don't see how dictating the situation is of any help. After all I am below you in ranking."

"I'd have thought you smarter, Potter," he spat. "This is all your wife's doing. She has a liking for those creatures. Even you can't deny the doom that Ambrosia has cast over the Ministry. As Aurors it is our job to stop this madness, and not to aid and abet. We're all in fear that we may be next, except for you and your mother of course."

"And what proof do you have of these accusations, Baddock?"

"I wrote those files," he yelled. "I was the one who documented every deed Ambrosia has ever attempted. From the beginning and updated every mysterious death that has occurred in the Ministry. I know exactly what has happened, and no one can tell me any different."

"And where is that file?" asked Harry.

He couldn't help the smile that slid so easily upon his features. Baddock had never been his favorite person and he could feel lthe tension rising in the room. Harry's words angered the man further. The file in question was a source of anger between the two men.

Bertram's jaw clamped tighter.

"You're all corrupted, I swear."

And with that Bertram Baddock left his office. Harry did not know how to react to this bit of news. He was taken aback by the accusation, but with time he realized that it was most likely true. Hermione Granger had not made secret her ambition for the freedom of House Elves.

This was well represented with her self-proclaimed organization, S.P.E.W. Cresswell was on the other side of the fence with this matter. So if anyone was to be Hermione's enemy it had to be Bertram.

Hermione popped into the Godric's Hollow cottage worn with sleep. More than anything she wanted to collapse in the bed and not wake up, but she had promised Lily that she would attend this dinner. She quickly made her way upstairs so she could change out of the dirty clothing and was properly.

She stretched the tank top over her shoulder and pulled it down wincing in pain as she touched a sore area. Perhaps later she would figure out the treatment that was needed for it. Down the stairs she went in perfect timing as she watched Lily.

Lily too spotted Hermione as she set the table switching out the place mats and placing a center piece in the middle. Hermione noticed that there were three places set, not two. Who was the guest that would be joining them?

"How was work?" asked Hermione.

"It wasn't too bad. And how was you're day?" asked Lily.

"Busy," responded Hermione.

She knew that her answer was evasive, but it was better that way. Lily nodded at her response not pressing the matter further, but instead instructed her to take a seat. Meanwhile she went into the kitchen to get the rest of the food.

Hermione stared at the table that seemed to stretch on forever and wondered why they couldn't have served the mean in the kitchen. The kitchen was a suitable size for three people.

The door swung open, interrupting Hermione in her thoughts. She realized instantly that the wide expanse of the dining room table would not be far enough.

The guest was Harry.

Harry carried two more dishes piled high with food while Lily carried a pitcher of water. They had obviously been sharing a joke in the kitchen, but as soon as he spotted her his demeanor changed. He obviously had been aware of her presence, but not ready to see her.

Lily did not force him to talk to her as she had predicted. Lily and Harry simply took their seats and began passing the food around to everyone. Soon enough forks and spoons clicked and clanged along the plates as they ate in silence.

Hermione locked a hand in her tresses twirling a stray strand as she ate with the other hand. Harry on the other hand was still stirring from the conversation that had taken place in his office. She didn't know it, but he was watching her.

He pondered how she could do what she did and still sit at a table and eat dinner as if nothing had occurred.

He waited until his mother left to get dessert.

"Dirk Cresswell. Tell me that you didn't kill him."

"I don't see how it would be any of your business. Dirk Cresswell got

exactly

what he deserved."

"What you did was wrong, Hermione?"

"And what he did was right? Cresswell had this sick belief that every other being should bow before wizards. That we as a magical people had the right to dictate and restrict, and take away the land of other creatures. No, I didn't kill the man, but he deserved to drop dead. "

Harry surveyed her and instantly knew that she herself had not done it, but there was a look of uncertainty that crossed her face. That look worried him.

"Do you know someone that could have done this?" he asked.

Hermione shook her head.

"Harry, you obviously don't understand how we run things. In Ambrosia there

are no names. There are two, perhaps three people besides me that are identified and besides that they are just a sea of people. Someone could in theory slip past my orders and I wouldn't know it."

Harry had a sinking feeling in his stomach. This whole operation had been put together by her father, and it had worked for a long time. That was how they were able to escape Ministry knowledge. He saw the cunning in the plan, but he also saw the flaws.

The danger.

For the first time Harry saw a glimpse of what she was going through. Both in her words and on her face. And then only the first was apparent. She had once again put up the mask. He wanted to reach out to her, but she was making it so hard.

"If you tell me what's going on, then perhaps we can help you."

Hermione's eyes narrowed as her stare was level with his own.

"I only want one thing from you, and that doesn't concern Ambrosia. I can deal with the situation myself."

Hermione paused briefly in order to create a distance between them.

"Tell Lily that I wasn't in the mood for dessert."

Before he could form a coherent thought, she had fled the room. Harry winced as he heard her door closing.

There were so many things that he wanted to tell her. A quick glance at her plate told him that number one on his agenda, would be her eating habits. It was evident that no more than two forkfuls had passed her lips, and that worried him.

She had always been a little too light for his taste.

A simple flick of his wand and Harry sent the dishes levitating towards the kitchen. By the time he arrived they were washing themselves in the sink. His mother sat there two pieces of chocolate cake placed on the smaller table.

"I don't really want to talk about it," he sighed. "At least I don't want to talk about her. Not anymore."

Lily gave her son a sharp look.

"You're childhood perhaps has never been normal, without your father around to help you understand you're potential role in a family. And I have never done little to shed light on the subject."

Lily leaned across the table and laid a hand across Harry's cheek, so that he looked at her as she spoke.

"Harry, you're married now. And to top it off the two of you are fighting. It is your job to be the bigger person in the relationship and fix this situation. I love you both but Hermione can't hide out here forever."

"Thanks mum," sighed Harry. "Do me a favor and make sure she eats something."


	4. In the Dark of the Night

**A/N: I expect that this chapter could be a bit morbid. **

**I know that I have gotten many flames about the story. I welcome criticism and accept that not everyone will love this story. Yes, Hermione is a bit OOC …for now. The story is a work in progress and most of what is criticized will be changed in the coming chapters. **

**Events will be explained through the story. **

**Happy Mother's Day ********!! **

Chapter 4:

There were stares as usual as he entered the office, but seemed as if it was more than usual. Perhaps it was because he was late once again to the office. Harry however though it could be that they had found out about his latest confrontation with Bertram Baddock.

"Follow me," sighed Lily.

Her voice had lost the compassion it held the night before; it was all business in the office. Harry followed behind his mother wondering what this could possibly be about. The conference that had occurred yesterday had gone off without a hitch. And he knew not of a reason to call a meeting at this time.

"Sit," commanded Lily.

"What is this about?"

"It's about Hermione, Harry."

Harry sighed, leaning back in his chair, wondering what else she could possibly have to say. He loved his mother, but she had overstepped her boundaries a bit the night before. It made him uncomfortable that she wished to get so involved in his personal life.

Lily sent her son a withering glare resembling a scowl.

"Hermione is a part of our family and as much as I want to make exceptions for her, I simply can't avoid this. The public has taken a stance and so has the Minister. We can't be strict on others and lenient on Ambrosia. It makes us look bad Harry."

"I never asked you to, mum."

"It's been implied," she retorted.

There was a brief pause in which both reigned in on their tempers. Lily shuffled the papers around on her desk.

"Hermione doesn't know it yet, but they've located an insider in Ambrosia. He's been talking as of late and has volunteered himself so that the Aurors can bring them down. They're scheduled to go in today. He seems to be a bit questionable, but seems to know Hermione well."

Lily slid a paper across her desk. He peered down at it recognizing only numbers on the sheet of paper.

"It's up to you, Harry," sighed Lily. "Those are the coordinates to the location of Ambrosia. It's hidden somewhere in the forests, a very secluded area. I understand that there is a great risk involved, but I think that it'd be well worth it. If you choose to go I'll cover for you, but make her understand that this is the last time."

"I don't know, mum."

His eyes stared down at the numbers as they burned into his brain. He wasn't particularly fond of the idea that he would have to botch an Auror mission for his own purposes. If he got caught for any reasons he would be in trouble. That would definitely skip the case and cart him straight off to Azkaban.

"Harry," sighed Lily. "I believe that you do know."

Hermione sat in her office peering at the Daily Prophet. She read its overly dramatic account of the events that had lead to Dirk Cresswell's demise. The man sitting before her could not see the look on her face as she grimaced with each passing word.

If he had looked he'd be afraid.

The paper stood on its own, but she pretended to grasp it as she used her other hand to grasp the knife that she had dropped in poison previously. Without another thought Hermione moved quickly plunging it in his general direction.

He collided to the ground, only a muffled groan escaping his throat. She smirked in success knowing that she had struck him, but he only appeared to have the initial symptoms.

"I know that it was you that ordered his death. And while I congratulate you, it was not your place. I think it'll set a good enough example for everyone else. Don't you?"

Hermione stared down at the man. She had trusted him. Rocco, she had called him. Hermione bent down twisting the knife until he screamed in pain.

In agony.

She wanted an answer, but he refused her one.

"I bet you never taught that to the trainees."

"Not to worry," he rasped.

Hermione knew he had no weapons, but she was shocked when she spied a miniature microphone. Not only had he ended their trust, but he had gone to the Ministry. She was beyond disgusted. The little bit of guilt she felt for placing the knife in his chest vanished. Hermione backed away cursing herself.

"We trusted you. I don't like betrayal."

"Ah, but I've never trusted you. Women have no place running this kind of operation. You don't have the strength or the drive to do what needs to be done. I don't believe that you have the power that your father had, or the ability to control people."

Hermione vaguely listened to his words. Indeed it had caused a rise in her. A strange want to shut him up for good ignited in her, but she was too focused. Too much drive by adrenaline to care about the man. After all he was dying.

Her hands fumbled collecting incriminating documents.

Her eyes piled papers together, but simultaneously scanned the corner of the room where the siren stood ready to come on if danger approached.

As she had suspected the squealing started and the light began to flash red. It was evident to her in that moment that her doom was drawing that much closer. She could feel it. She threw all the documents into one file and shrunk it fitting it into her bra.

She exited the office successfully, turning towards her secretary. Hermione perhaps should have taken more time to train her in the event of an emergency, but she believed that the brunette was responsible and could handle what she would ask.

"I want all rookies out of here and assuming civilian positions. Load a few of them down with files by priority. All senior leaders remain. We have a situation that needs to be dealt with."

"What about pending missions?"

"I've got them covered. Just go and handle this for me."

Hermione glanced around the room as she thought of anything that she might need to carry along with her.

Hermione brushed past the woman who was frantically pulling together a mountain of papers as she passed them off frantically to unsuspecting passerbys warning them of the impending danger. Hermione did the same occasionally passing off a file to vaguely familiar faces.

They would get the job done.

Hermione pushed through the frantic crowd. Numerous objects had disappeared and the crowd had thinned a bit. The blaring only seemed to get louder and she knew they were fast approaching. She shrunk the papers stuffing them into her pocket for safe keeping.

She quickly joined the ranks of the rest. Word obviously traveled fast. Hermione had raised her wand just in time. A loud crash could be heard as the front door blew off its hinges splintering in all directions.

This was her ancestral home and the doors breaking had angered her slightly, but she knew there was more to worry about.

Aurors began to swarm the area.

And though Rocco could have provided them with thorough information as to the running of Ambrosia, Hermione understood that she had the upper hand. She knew the layout of the house well, and so did her people.

She ducked behind a spare piece of furniture wondering how long it would be before it too shattered to pieces. It did buy her time to think. As she sat her heart heaving in her chest she looked down the hallway.

Hermione needed to get out of here.

She was her only concern, and had not begun to worry about anyone else. The Aurors were only truly looking for her. And if she was found they would simply see her workers as icing on the cake.

"Ms. Granger, you must go," her secretary urged.

Hermione knew that the woman spoke sense, but she didn't have the nerve to do as she commnded. This was her ancestral home that they were messing with. And if they destroyed it she would feel terribly indeed.

"I cannot," sighed Hermione. "I must remain here and fight."

"Ms. Granger, do you not understand how foolish you are being? Your instruction will lead us to our success. We can take care of the situation very well. And even if we fail you cannot be here to fall with the rest of us. Ambrosia would not be Ambrosia if there is not a member of the family line to continue it."

Hermione smiled. The woman understood.

And so while a few minutes ago she had been apprehensive about trusting anyone she would trust her for a while to get her out of this situation.

"Come with me," commanded Hermione.

The secretary was shocked by her request. In fact she sought the invitation as an offer. With shaky hands she extended the necklace around her own neck and onto Hermione's also. And with a simple snap of her fingers Hermione and the secretary were apparated away from the situation.

To where Hermione did not know, but she could have sworn that on her departure she saw Harry. In fact she was certain that she had seen him walking down the hallway and running towards her direction.

Hermione landed unceremoniously in the alleyway. She landed on her feet, but could not help, but be disgusted with the rats that scurried around her searching for food. Hermione once gathering her surroundings was taking in the presence of her secretary.

She fiddled nervously wondering what was proper to say in this situation.

"I don't think that anyone has ever understood what Ambrosia is. And I appreciate you so much for that because we are the only two in the entire wizarding community who will. The Ministry has to pay for what it's done to my family."

"My name is Juliet, Ms. Granger. I am your secretary, but understand that there are some things that lay more important than revenge for your family. This was generations ago and I don't think you will ever understand what your family has lost. And I don't think the Ministry is the cause of that."

Hermione's facial features went from uncertainty to that of anger. Juliet knew that she was treading in dangerous waters and yet she continued to speak as she wished.

"I ask that you not appreciate my efforts. There are better ways to go about what you wish to accomplish. After today I do not wish to be a part of this any longer. I want out of Ambrosia, Ms. Granger."

"Ambrosia is not something that you can turn a cheek from. Ambrosia is a way of life that you follow until the day that you die. It's either that you are killed that you wish to die, but there is no way to escape it."

Hermione said this bitterly. It was her own mantra, repeated with almost every breath she took. It made her sick inside, and it was no surprised that it brought anger to Juliet. The woman that stood before Hermione, no doubt near her own age, lost her cool.

"Ms. Granger, you are a bitter, bitter woman," she yelled. "I would relish the opportunity to be free of living in this situation, but you embrace it. Do you not know that they talk in the halls? There is not a soul in the world who does not know of your marriage. Everyone knows that you walked away from a happy life with a man that most women envy you for. I think that I'd rather die…I would rather kill myself than remain on this Earth dealing with the misery that is Ambrosia."

"I don't care if you make the decision to take the coward's way out."

Juliet raised her wand to her own temple as if daring Hermione. The secretary stared her in the eye and Hermione knew that she would indeed do it.

"This all needs to end, Ms. Granger. I think you must ask yourself just when the Ministry will have satisfied its past follies."

And with that Juliet slumped to the ground. Her head hit the brick wall and Hermione's body fell with her. Hermione did not truly believe that she would have done the deed. But it was evident that she was gone.

Hermione even pressed two fingers to her pulse point.

Nothing.

When would she be satisfied?


	5. Talk To Her

**A/N: Well, I've had a bad case of writer's block. Thanks for all the reviews, and I hope that you like this chapter. As usual please review. ****Constructive criticism always welcome.**

Harry sat behind his desk wondering what had possessed him to pop in on the Ministry surge. Not only was it not his duty, but she had spotted him. He would bet anything that she was now furious with him. He had seen her look of shock just before her departure.

And after she had left he had stayed watching as Aurors in grand numbers slaughtered members of Ambrosia and vice versa. It was a violent bloodbath that he was more than happy to stay a spectator in.

The late afternoon edition of the Daily Prophet relayed this information.

It didn't offer the vivid detail in which he had seen it.

The office was in chaos, and it seemed as if he was the only one who remained idle. Papers sat on his desk though they had already been completed a while ago. Harry was to be at the training facilities working with the trainees but he was avoiding them as best he could.

His vision blurred as his thoughts too muddled together, and then he saw her. He glimpsed a woman taking great advantage of the uproar that occurred in headquarters. She blended in very well except for the fact that he knew her too well.

Harry restrained himself from exiting his office and grabbing her by the collar into his office for a long conversation concerning her obviously addled brain. He would justify his rants as preparation for Rookie Evaluation which was to be conducted within the next three days.

He could see that it wasn't necessary as she neared loser. The door opened and closed the curtains falling in succession. Harry was not sure whether this was by magic or by sheer force of the door's slamming against the door frame.

Hermione stood before him her hands in her pockets. There were a million reasons why this was not proper, but only one surfaced in his brain.

"I don't think that we have an appointment. It is rather presumptuous of you to show up as if…"

"…I know you," she finished. Hermione sighed and dared to step closer her hands swinging as they remained firmly set in her pockets. This was the only way that she could dare speak to him. "But I do…know you, that is."

Hermione thought for a moment, before she looked him in the eye. The look on her face was somewhere between a smile and a smirk, but she simply couldn't look away from him.

"I hate it when you test me like this," sighed Hermione. She racked her brain trying to figure out when he had last made that statement. "It was the night you proposed; happy? You'd scheduled a dinner date and I was late. You almost didn't propose because you thought it was Ambrosia related. It wasn't."

"Are we actually bartering of secrets between each other?" asked Harry.

Hermione raised an eyebrow at him before she found herself a seat on his desk.

"I'd prefer to think of it as us having a civilized conversation. This is one of many that neither of us want to bring up, and I figure it's time we open Pandora's Box," said Hermione. She swallowed carefully. "I can't recall exactly when I told you that my mother had died, but I know I was hiding it from you for quite a while. She had a sixth sense, Harry; she just knew when things were going to happen."

Hermione didn't come out and say it, directly, but he knew that she was speaking of her mother. He had met her once, and she seemed to be one of the nicest people. He couldn't understand how people could get caught up in something and change.

"And all of a sudden every conversation we had she urged me to leave. And I think I always knew that the one thing she wanted for me to do was to get out. But I thought that I knew better than she did. In reality however I should have listened."

"Some things can't be fixed."

Hermione glanced around the room before she faced Harry once again.

"This is strictly under the table Auror Potter?"

"It always is with you, Hermione."

"In theory I could give you my amulet and let the Aurors take care of them all, or perhaps I could just summon them all to the meeting place seal the house and let them burn. I could really care less how the situation is taken care of, but I can't be the one to do it."

Harry didn't bother to ask why.

"What has inspired the change?"

"Let's just say that a friend helped me realized that revenge doesn't always help you get what you want. Instead it only turns you bitter, and into something that you don't wish to be. I think it's time for me to get back to being myself, and leave Ambrosia in the past."

"Revenge?" asked Harry. "That's what this is about. Why attack the Ministry of all people?"

"In theory it would be more theatrical if I just targeted everyone, and caused mass fear. But in reality I realize that, if I did so I would be the next Voldemort," said Hermione. "But beyond that it's what they did to my ancestor, Katherina Ambrosia. If history serves me correctly she was one of the first muggleborn witches and they shunned her. And she too was a Seer. So when she decided to warn them of the impending Dark Lord of the century they…"

Harry was shocked. How could he have not realized it sooner?

"Katherina Ambrosia?" he asked. "Isn't that…"

"Yes, she's one and the same. We will always share the same blood and unfortunately we'll have the same markings across our backs. They branded her as punishment so they could trace the evil' down the family line. But the Ministry doesn't want anyone to know."

"They're probably ashamed."

"It's been centuries, Harry, and I predict that even your mother can testify to it. And I'm sure that you've experienced it first hand with Umbridge. Perhaps if the entire Wizarding World knew some would be outraged, and perhaps some would understand."

"You're still afraid about that aren't you?" asked Harry. "You still think that you have something to prove to everyone else just because your parents didn't have any magical powers. Hermione there are so many things that you can do in the Wizarding World that a pureblood couldn't. "

"Not anymore," she muttered. Hermione had previously glanced down at the floor, but turned her head towards the door in curiosity. And once she was certain she turned her head back. "It's Ginny."

Harry arched an eyebrow indeed wondering how she had accomplished this feet, he also pondered her accuracy. But soon all questions were answered when the door burst open and a fiery haired woman slipped into the room. A smile was on her face, but it soon slid away once Hermione entered the room.

"I didn't know that you had company," said Ginny.

Hermione turned around to face Ginny still perched on the desk. The second she knew it was Ginny she was filled with a sense of loathing. Perhaps Ginny had done nothing in recent times to cause this level of anger, but all the same she still didn't like the look in her eye.

"Yes," said Hermione. "And you are rudely interrupting a conversation. It would be better if you returned later to continue whatever situation has arisen; this is important."

"I do believe that what I have to say is as important, if not more than whatever scheme you're attempting to run by Harry. In fact, on behalf of everyone that's suffered for your recklessness: It would be best if you just went away. Now if you excuse me…"

Harry did not know if he should have been expecting this, but now that he was seeing it in full motion he knew that it needed to stop immediately. As far as he'd been concerned they were best friends, but they were obviously not.

To his relief Hermione walked directly past her and instead turned on the spot to face Harry. Hermione sent him a weak smile, indicating that they would pick up on the conversation later. Harry was actually looking forward to that moment. Hermione left as quickly as she had appeared and he was left only with Ginny.

A woman with who he was now mad at.

"I've been talking to Ron lately," said Ginny. "And I know that he's never been more worried about you than he is at the moment. Harry, I beg you to understand that we all care deeply about your well being, but perhaps I'm the only one willing to tell you how I feel about the matter."

"And what are your feelings?"

"She's a walking contradiction, Harry. I suppose that with her marks at Hogwarts and her attitudes there that she should be the most stable person, and the most successful of your years graduates. But let's face it she is the flightiest person that you could ever meet. And you can't spend your whole life waiting for that person to return when she's just going to…did you notice what she was wearing?"

Harry groaned…another fictitious story was about to weave its way into the conversation.

"I can't even begin to wonder why you married her, much less why you haven't divorced her. Surely law would permit you to end the sham of a marriage, but no you insist upon barreling yourself deeper. Hermione Granger has been working in this since she was attractive enough to…"

"I don't care," he shouted, ending her statement. Ginny was stunned to say the least, Harry had never before shouted at her. "I'm sick of everyone telling me all of Hermione's flaws. And half of them aren't even correct, because you've gotten them from the latest gossip mill."

"Harry.."

"Perhaps I don't approve with what Hermione's doing, but she's trying to make it all better. And even she didn't I think I'd still love her, because that's who she is. And I knew that when I married her. I don't give a damn what everyone else thinks about my marriage. My mum, Mrs. Weasley, and Luna understand the situation. And if you can't take my wife or stand the state of my marriage…well that's just your problem."

"Think about what your father would want …."

"Get out…" his hand pointed to the door.

Harry stood in the doorway of her bedroom at Godric's Hollow. It had taken him much of the afternoon to figure out where to begin his search for her, and once it hit him he had taken the rest of the day off. Now Harry was here watching her as she appeared to be searching for something.

"What are you looking for?"

"My wand," she groaned. She ducked her head disappearing beneath the bed skirts. She came up and sighed placing her hands across her knees. "I've looked everywhere at least three times. I don't know how I could be so careless as to misplace my wand."

"We all do it at least once. When do you recall last using it?"

Hermione clapped her hand to her forehead, and groaned.

"The Ministry surge. That's probably the last time that I've used it. I have no idea where it could be now. It's not safe to head over there, and most likely it's under Ministry guard now. What am I going to do now? I haven't cast any bad spells lately, but my wandless magic is a bit off."

"Just calm down a bit," said Harry. He led her to bed and instructed her to sit down. And informed her that he would be back within a few minutes with something to calm her down. A few minutes turned into practically forever, and when she finally thought that she would lose it he returned.

Harry set down a cup of tea on the dresser, and walked over to her. Harry had partially hidden the two objects in his hand, but once she caught a glimpse of the vial and knife in his hands, she knew that she needed to ask questions.

"What are you doing?" she asked her nerves showing quite a bit.

"We're going to get you a new wand. It's going to have to be custom made because you can't physically show up in Ollivander's. And that's why I'm going to have to get a blood sample. It'll turn out better than if I picked out the wand for you."

Hermione knew what he was saying made sense.

"Why don't we just use your blood?"

Harry shook his head at how ridiculous her statement sounded. It was a simple prick and then it will all be over. He distracted her soon enough, and retrieved what he needed to get her new wand. He handed her the banded and the cup of tea.

And with that he was gone. Hermione didn't know how she felt about his departure, but instead of dwelling on it she looked into the mahogany cloud that was her tea. She raised it to her lips and began to calm her ever frantic nerves.


	6. Burn Away

**A/N: I have written and rewritten several drafts only to find that I am left without a beta temporarily, and so until she gets back I will be posting unbetaed, so forgive me for any spelling/grammar mistakes in advance. **** I hope you enjoy it, because I've enjoyed writing it. **

**Constructive criticism is always welcome. **

Harry popped back into Godric's Hollow the next morning with a wand box in his hands. He half expected for Hermione to pummel him commanding that he present her with his wand. Even he had to admit that producing a wand in this manner was the best test of patience.

He looked around the entire house in an attempt to find her, but he could not. The library was his second choice after she was not in her bedroom. He checked his mother's room, and even the kitchen, but she was nowhere to be found. Harry just about gave up his search when he thought to look in the backyard.

Even he didn't care to venture out here too much. No one did. It needed a proper caring, everything else around the house had a well cared for sense except for this area. The areas where there were flowers were surrounded by weeds, but all the same he had found her.

Hermione sat on the oversized wooden swing. Harry walked towards the swing and found himself a seat beside her. At first he thought that she was still sleeping, but she was just out of it in some kind of daze.

"What happened?" he asked.

Hermione's hands trembled as she took something from her pocket and dumped it into Harry's hands. He was surprised that she would so carelessly put something into his hands that she seemed to care so deeply about. And then he felt the necklace, at least the gem part of it burn in his hands.

He hissed in pain at the heat and let it drop into the sand. Harry didn't understand much about it, but in all the times he had felt a stone it had never been that hot. Actually it had been relatively cool.

"It started early this morning," she began, clenching her eyes shut. "It woke me up and I couldn't go back to sleep. It started from the stone, and now it's not only there. Someone's pulling it all apart, Harry, and they're doing it in the masses…"

Harry knew he was probably aiding an addict, but it was something serious. He passed her the wand box, but she merely slapped it away. He didn't know if he should be offended, or worry about her more than he already was.

"It's too late."

Hermione backed further into the corner of the wooden swing, still not looking at him. And so he too looked away so he could take the time to think. It took a while before he decided to look at the necklace once again. He bent down and picked it up careful not to touch the stone again. It was hot like…fire.

In his mind, though he hadn't admitted it, he thought that this was something that the Ministry had cooked up against Ambrosia. But as he looked at the stone, and then stole a glance at Hermione he realized that there was no way that it was the Ministry. It was a bit too calculated for his taste.

Taking off his jacket, he wrapped the necklace in it, and then set to the task at hand. Hermione wasn't going to move herself, and so he decided that he was going to move her. As usual she fought him as much as she could, but that was not much of a challenge.

Before he knew it she was in his arms, and his subconscious reaction was to take her to Grimmauld Place.

He was home, but that didn't make him feel that much better. Hermione was in one of her worst moods, he soon discovered, and this time it had everything to do with her pride and how she didn't want to admit that she was in pain.

Harry had become skilled at linking things together for himself. After all that was what he was paid to do. And he'd figured out soon enough that logically all of this was stemming from one source.

"Please," she asked. "I'm begging you…don't touch it."

Harry honestly didn't plan to touch it. He would most likely end up doing more harm than good, but he needed to see for himself what he was dealing with. She was already on her back from when he first laid her on the bed, and she hadn't moved an inch. Lifting her shirt he knew exactly what he was looking for, and he did find it, but not as he expected.

Harry grimaced at the look of it. It was definitely not supposed to look like this. He had always teased her about the markings that she had on her back. They had once resembled any tattoo that a person might get just because of want, but now it was horrible.

Surely she couldn't have done this to herself. It looked awfully red, and in some parts he could see where something had cut through the flesh. Even with his moderate skills in healing he could tell that it was extremely painful, and that if he didn't do something she would probably get infected.

"I'm going to have to, Hermione," he concluded.

In a short while Harry returned with half the potions cabinet, gauze and a basin full of hot water. Dipping the cloth in and wringing most of the sterilized liquid out, he began to administer to her wounds. And it seemed that he was causing more pain, that he was actually helping.

By the time he was ready wrap the gauze around the area though, he found Hermione to be sleeping. He couldn't help but smile, knowing that she was feeling better. He wrapped it around her back and across her torso once more covering the last of the gash, and tying it off.

Harry too had retired for a quick nap, before he headed downstairs with a mission. He was armed with his jacket, and a potions book courtesy of the Grimmauld Place library. A quick trip to the Apothecary later, and he was more than ready to make a potion.

Unfortunately for him, he didn't have a cauldron on hand. So he had to substitute it with a heavy pot on the stove. He had just thrown the last ingredient in, and turned the stove down to low so that it could all simmer together. Another quick look at the directions and he knew that the potion was near completion.

Hermione turned the corner into the kitchen with a slow, but ambitious walk about her. Harry hadn't expected her to rise from the bed so suddenly, or that he had done such a good job. With a little trouble she managed to get herself onto the stool, a smile on her face.

"I don't know what I can say to thank you," she said. "I mean not only for the miracle that you worked on my back, but also for the wand. I probably wasn't that hospitable towards you this morning considering the situation."

Harry raised an eyebrow.

"Someone decided to take down Ambrosia before you had the chance to. Am I right?" he asked. "And not only did they find a way to undermine your authority, but they also found a way to make you vulnerable. And whether you'd like to admit it or not you're screwed."

There was a silence in the kitchen that told Harry he was right. He shook his head in disbelief before he opened the pot and began skimming the yellow liquid off of the top, and dumping it into a bowl, before he continued.

"So I'm thinking that you have the master stone that's linked to all the ones that you hand out to all of your Ambrosians. And that the master stone is in turn linked to the tattoo. In the end I really don't think that's the smartest thing to do, because it puts you in the situation that you're in, now."

"How was I supposed to know that all this was going to happen?" asked Hermione. "Things have been fine for years in the system, and its worked for us all. And now that I've taken it over no one seems to believe that I have what takes to do what's necessary. And so everyone is jumping overboard. And if you think that I haven't tried to destroy that necklace, you'd be wrong. It's not as easy as it seems."

Harry took his jacket off the counter and shook the ball of material loose until he got what he was looking for…the necklace. He picked it up by the chain and showed it to Hermione, ready to prove her wrong. Dipping the spoon into the pot once more, he removed another layer of the yellow liquid.

Harry swirled it around for another minute, before he decided it was time to put Hermione's necklace into it. At first it didn't appear to work, and then whatever was in the chemical that Harry had produced from the potion immediately went to work. He in fact wasn't surprised when the yellow substance began eating away at the stone. Smoke rose from the clear glass dish, as the stone became no more.

He pulled the stone from the chain from the liquid and wiped it on a paper towel. Harry laid it before Hermione on the countertop just so she could see it. The powersource for Ambrosia was gone, and from all standpoints Harry saw no reason why Ambrosia was still in existence. One look at Hermione had he could tell that some of the pain had been relieved.

"Let's be honest about this," he observed. "It's not that it's hard to destroy, but that it's hard for you to trust me enough. Because I know that if you'd have actually let me into that part of your life, things would be a lot easier."

"Harry…"

"I think your things are still packed in the attic."

"You did what, Harry?" asked Luna.

Her mouth was agape, and she paused in stirring sugar into her lukewarm tea. They had decided to meet up for lunch, but it turned out that neither had paid much attention to the meal and instead chose to sit around and talk with one another about their day.

However Harry couldn't seem to get the guilt out of his mind. And he had blurted out the events of the day including how he had basically told Hermione that he wished to have nothing to do with her any longer.

"I kicked her out," repeated Harry. "It's not as if she actually lived there anyway. I just told her to collect her belongings and take them over to Godric's Hollow. She's living at my mum's place anyway, so I don't really see the problem."

"You don't see the problem?" asked Luna.

"I'd really appreciate if you didn't look at me that way, and then respond to everything I say with a question. Yes, I kicked her out, and yes, I hope that she takes all her stuff with her to my mum's house. She can't open herself up to me when I've always been an open book for her."

"She's been through a lot, Harry," said Luna. "And I think more than anything if everything that her life's centered around suddenly disappears she's going to be in shock more than anything. And I don't think telling her to take everything she owns out of the house is going to help matters any."

"Well," said Harry. "You and I are obviously on opposite sides of the fence. Hermione's obviously entrusted you with everything, and I don't think it's too much for me to ask her to do the same for me."

"Are you jealous of me?" asked Luna.

Her tone held a slight humor, that verged on curiosity.

Harry thought about the question for a second as weird as it sounded. No, he decided. He was not jealous of Luna persee, but he knew that Luna had this special bond with Hermione that he didn't have. And yes, he was jealous of that.

Luna pushed aside her plate and leaned across the table to grasp at Harry's hands. It was a firm squeeze that finally got her to look at him.

"It's one thing to express that it's hurting your relationship when there are secrets, Harry. And then there's another to just lash out and use it against someone. I'm not saying that she shouldn't tell you what's going on, but there are some things that you'd rather not talk about either. Am I right?"

"There's a difference, though," he explained.

"Exactly," smiled Luna. "I remember exactly when she told me. I think it was down by the lake at Hogwarts. And I can honestly say that she gave me the version that would be worthy of a textbook. On the otherhand I think that there's a lot more underneath that."

"I'll talk to her when I go home. That is if she's still there."

"I think she knows you didn't mean it," advised Luna. "I should also add that her clothes aren't in the attic. When I was working on the house I moved everything into the master bedroom…sorry."

Harry raised his eyebrows at the thought, he too had forgotten about the move. He hadn't entered the room in so long. In fact as he recalled it, he had sealed the room off with a spell. At that precise moment his watch went off informing him that he needed to head back to the office.

Harry dug in his pocket searching for a few coins to pay for the lunch. Luna looked off at the clock in the restaurant and couldn't help but remind herself of an appointment at the Quibbler.

"Will you be at dinner tomorrow night?" she asked. "I hear Molly's inviting everyone over for this one, even Lily."

It had indeed been a while since he had attended one of those affairs. Harry didn't promise Luna that he would come, but that he would try his best to attend. In his mind he told himself that he would be there if he was still alive.

**A/N. As always comments are always. Welcome. Appreciated. And will always be remembered. **


	7. Sorry!

Update 8/18/2009

Well, I've finally written the first chapter of the rewrite. I'm publishing it on this site under a new title called 'Everything'. I took into consideration advice that I've received through PM's and am really happy with the direction that it's going in. I hope that you all enjoy it.

Alexzangel.


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